“A… What are we doing?”

“You’re picking a shape,” he said. “Anything. It could even be an object. Or an animal, but sometimes those are harder.”

“Cash, I don’t—”

“Just pick one.”

“Fine. A triangle.”

He sighed. “That is way too easy.” Then, without warning, he reached between us and picked up my hand. I was startled, and I almost pulled back, but then our eyes met.

“Relax,” he said.

And, for once, I did.

His fingers were warm and callused against mine. He uncoiled my hand and gently forced me to extend my index finger. He made me point to a cluster of stars over our heads, and I watched as he drew a triangle with my finger, using three stars as the points. “See? That’s the Star Game.”

“Oh,” I said. “Wow… A triangle was too easy.”

“Your turn,” he said. “I tell you a shape and you have to find it in the stars.”

I admit, the game was kind of cheesy, but I thought it was sweet of him to try to entertain me when I was so clearly having a bad night. So I played along.

“All right, what shape?”

“An elephant.”

“Are you joking?” I cried. “You said animals were the hardest. You can’t give me an elephant.”

“That’s what makes it a game,” Cash teased, grinning and looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “The first person unable to piece together the image loses. I like winning. So I give you an elephant.”

“Jerk.”

“Clock’s ticking.”

“There’s a time limit, too?” I asked, panicked.

“No,” he laughed. “Now I’m really just messing with you.”

I sighed and looked up at the stars. At least there were a lot out tonight. That made finding the shapes easier. But an elephant? There was no way I could find an elephant in the sky. Just as I was thinking this, though, the lines began to form in my brain, connecting one star to another in a somewhat animal-like shape.

I picked up Cash’s hand and he extended his index finger, willing me to draw through him. Slowly, I traced the stick-figure outline of the elephant. I started with each leg, then did the back, but when I got to the head, I halted. These stars would make a better dog or cat, because I couldn’t find the trunk. My eyes scoured the tiny lights, hoping to find some way to connect the final pieces, just as Cash began to hum the Jeopardy! theme song in my ear.

Then his wrist began to move without my guiding it, and Cash connected a few stars jutting upward, making a trunk pointing toward the air instead of at the elephant’s feet, as I’d been imagining. He drew his finger back down, making the animal whole. Lopsided and irregularly shaped but whole.

“Nice job,” he said, as if I’d figured out how to finish the constellation myself.

“You let me win,” I said.

He shrugged and gave me a small smile. “It was your first time.”

“Well, thanks for being gentle.”

Cash cracked up, and when I realized what I’d just said, my cheeks flamed.

“I-I mean—”

“It’s no problem,” Cash choked out between laughs. “Any good guy would have made it special for you.”

I buried my face in my hands. “Oh, God.” But I was laughing, too. With anyone else, Chloe excluded, I probably would have been mortified. But in that context, it really was funny.

“All right,” he said, taking my hand again as his laughter eased. It felt so natural, so normal, that it didn’t even faze me to have him hold my hand. “So do you think you can win on your own next time?”

“Of course I can.”

He smirked and leaned against my arm just a bit, his fingers still wrapped around mine. “Prove it,” he said.

“I will,” I said defiantly. “But you have to go first. And this time, you have to make an… an octopus.”

Cash hesitated, then looked up at the sky before turning back to me. “Game on.”

*   *   *

Cash and I played the Star Game for hours, talking between each challenge. He explained his position in soccer to me—though the explanation really flew right over my head—and, after he caught me counting the seconds as I waited for him to complete my newest constellation assignment (Santa Claus), I’d been forced to confess my control-freak neuroses. Which, shockingly, didn’t send him running back into the party.

“So when you’re nervous, you count?”

“Not just when I’m nervous,” I said. “It’s… all the time. I count the seconds during pauses in conversations. I count the minutes when I’m waiting on something. Sometimes, when I’m kind of panicked or anxious, I count my heartbeats. Something about counting makes me feel like… like I have the power. Like knowing how much time has passed or how many steps I’ve taken from one place to another will somehow keep me in control of the situation.” My hands twisted in my lap. I couldn’t believe I was telling Cash this. It wasn’t something I’d shared with anyone besides Chloe. “I know it’s crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Cash said. “I think you’re…”

I looked up at him just as he trailed off. It was too dark to tell, but I thought he was blushing.

“I’m what?”

He cleared his throat and ran a hand over his hair. I wanted to touch it, feel the short, dark strands. “I think you’re kind of amazing.”

One, two…

I was holding my breath, my whole body tense as I waited for his next words. Then I realized, with a little bit of a shock, that it was the first time I’d been anxious in a few hours. He’d had me so relaxed, so at ease—until now.

Three, four…

What was he going to say? What did I want him to say?

“I mean,” he added, “you are surprisingly good at the Star Game. Until tonight, I’d never found anyone who could compete with me.”

“Do you, um, play with many other people?”

“Well… no. Honestly, you’re the only other person I’ve played with besides my mom. We played when we’d go camping when I was a kid, but that’s been years. I usually just do this on my own. So… you’re the first person to be able to compete with me. No lie.”

“So… your mom really sucks at the game, huh?”

Cash laughed. “She couldn’t even make a triangle… but I was nine, so she may have been letting me win.”

“The way you’re letting me win right now?”

“Yeah… just much more subtle. I never would have guessed back then that she was helping me.”

Before I could respond, I felt Cash’s hand wrap around mine. He nudged my index finger out and pointed it to the sky.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “I haven’t challenged you yet.”

“No,” he said. “But I just saw one on my own. Look at this.”

And I watched as Cash traced my finger along a line of stars, following a few more into a curve, and then another, until a long line connected them all at a point.

“A heart,” I murmured.

And my own skipped a beat.

I cleared my throat. “You know, that’s, um, a little cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I turned toward Cash just as he turned toward me. I closed my hand over his, and then he was leaning and I was leaning and it felt like a gravitational pull. Like moving toward Cash was the most natural thing in the world.

And that’s the way the kiss felt, too. Natural. Like I’d been kissing him forever. Like we were supposed to be kissing each other at that moment. Maybe for every moment after.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket just as Cash’s free hand moved up to cup my cheek.

“Sorry,” I murmured into his mouth as I pulled away. “It might be an emergency… or something.”

He nodded and turned away, running a hand over his head again.

When I flipped open my phone, I found a text from Chloe.

Going back 2 shanes place. Can u get another ride or want me 2 take u back now?

I glanced over at Cash and felt the butterflies beating their wings against my rib cage. Four hours ago, I would have given anything to leave this place. But now, as it approached midnight, I wanted nothing more than to stay here. Or be wherever Cash was, anyway.